


First Ties

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4282953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint was just looking for a friend to help him through heat, and Steve has a tendency to not look before he leaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt at avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/20598.html?thread=51009654#t51009654)

It was a rush, a warm, liquid feeling of languor. That was how it always started, that easy, loose feeling, a sort of gentle prelude to what was going to eventually turn into desperate moans and clenching and copious amounts of slick as Clint's body temperature would rise and his body _demanded_ proper attention. The easier and looser he felt at the beginning, the worse the heats always were, a sort of apology for his body for the sexy hell it was about to put him through.

This time it felt like he'd suddenly sunk into a pool of warm Jell-O. Oh, this was going to be epic.

He'd been expecting heat to hit sometime this weekend; someone would always be home at one time or another, and if any bad guy decided to try to take over the world, Rhodes had been nice enough to say he'd take Clint's spot on the team. So Clint could just sigh easily as his body suddenly relaxed, head lolling back and legs falling apart. From his spot on the couch he looked over at Steve and mentally counted down the seconds until his scent would waft over to him. At the count of five, Steve sharply turned away from the comedy movie and focused his gaze on Clint with a stunned expression.

“Hey, do y'wanna help a guy out?” Clint said, grinning. He was ninety-nine percent certain everyone else was out right now, but was also one hundred percent okay with asking Steve. Everyone had had a go at him at one time or other, lending a helping hand, and he was not selfish when it came to his friends and sharing.

Steve seemed speechless for a few heartbeats before he managed, “I thought you had, um, something...” He had turned towards Clint almost involuntarily, one hand clenched hard around the edge of a couch cushion. His color was up, and Clint could smell his growing interest from where he sat. 

“Nah, I prefer a good hard alpha knot from a friend instead of drugs if I have any choice. Best damn way to get through heat,” Clint said, rolling his hips slightly and feeling the start of moisture between his thighs. He bit his lip as the easy, loose feeling started to be replaced with the prickling heat and hollow ache that needed filling. He groaned, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Steve, you want to? Please? Gotta know now, or I gotta call someone-”

Clint shut his mouth as Steve covered the distance in two strides and scooped him up. “Yes, I want to,” he said, no, more like gasped, like he was pushing out his answer after a marathon or two. The elevator was too slow, and Steve ran them up stairs three at a time until they hit Clint's bedroom. In that short distance, Clint felt like he was already soaked with slick, holding onto Steve's arms like a lifeline. When Steve put him on the bed, Clint managed to make two rolling motions and be completely free of his clothes, something that never failed to make his partner's eyes pop a little. Steve was still looking somewhat stunned, but Clint could feel his heat ramping up fast and hard, demanding satisfaction. He keened as he threw his head back, hand reaching out for Steve.

“Come on, please, give it to me Steve, fill me up, knot me, knot me-” He choked off his words in a gasp as Steve got himself naked with hands that were remarkably steady, showing a hard and ready cock Clint promised himself he would taste later, once things had cooled down a little. He reached out with a leg and drew Steve in close, opening his thighs to show his wet and ready hole, hips rolling involuntarily as slick trickled from him in a slow, steady flood. 

Steve said something that sounded like, “Oh, God,” and pushed in, _fuck_ , so hard and thick, filling up Clint's whole channel, and _yes_ , he already had the beginnings of a knot at his base, spreading Clint wider and wider with every thrust of his hips. Clint closed his eyes and pushed back in rhythm, slinging one leg over Steve's shoulder for leverage, the other tight around his waist to bring him in deeper. Steve made some little sound and began to go even faster, harder, feeling even hotter, and Clint could feel himself getting wetter in response. There were obscene sounds filling the bedroom, and the air was thick with the smell of Clint's heat, making a feedback loop that had Clint digging his heel hard into Steve's back as Steve _slammed_ his hips forward, clinging hard enough to bruise as his knot expanded. Steve pushed in even further and Clint clenched on his gorgeous hard knot as he came, spattering come over his own stomach as Steve filled him up inside.

It took a long moment to come back to Earth after his orgasm, so Clint just lay pliant and grinning, eyes still closed, until he could catch his breath again. After a minute he realized Steve hadn't moved a muscle or said a word, and opened his eyes. Steve was staring down at Clint with something like panic, eyes flicking between Clint's face, the bruises on his hips, and their connection together where Steve's knot held them firmly tied. His mouth gaped, he was losing his sex-flush for the pale color of fear, and Clint suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

“Steve? You okay?” he asked, moving one hand to gently squeeze at Steve's forearm.

“I...” He kept staring, and moved his hand off of Clint's hip. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“What? No, hell no, hip-bruises from sex are the opposite of hurting,” Clint said lightly. He kept contact with Steve's arm, still not liking the lost look in Steve's eyes.

“I mean, it doesn't hurt... here?” Steve brushed where they were tied with a fingertip, and Clint involuntarily clenched on Steve's knot in response. Steve's eyes fluttered closed as he moaned, and Clint could feel another hot spurt inside him. Clint clung to coherency by a thin margin, because all he wanted to do was feel that another five or six times while he stroked himself.

“No, not hurting. Feels fantastic, you feel fantastic,” Clint said. Steve's eyes flickered to the side, then down again, not sure where to land. Clint dug his fingers into Steve's arm a little more firmly, and Steve snapped his eyes back to Clint's face briefly, before hanging his head. 

“I'm sorry, I... I've never done this before,” Steve whispered.

Clint's jaw dropped, but he quickly moved his hand to pull Steve down for a kiss, regardless of the mess. Never done-. Fuck. _Fuck._

“I mean, not never-never, but never like this. Not with an omega,” Steve said against Clint's lips. He could feel Steve's humiliated flush, and Clint just kissed him again. What else could he do? Damn it, he could have gone a little slower, made things better for both of them if he'd known.

“I wanted to, with you, I did, but I thought I-” Steve cut off his own flood of words and pulled back suddenly. “I didn't get you pregnant, did I?”

And that shouldn't have been so arousing, not with what Clint had just learned, but you started talking about breeding with a tied omega in heat and they would clamp down hard. It made for fantastic dirty talk under other circumstances, but now Steve just looked even more upset as his body shuddered through another small orgasm, pulsing more seed into Clint's body.

“No. No, Steve not a problem,” Clint said quickly, reaching down to brush his knuckles against Steve's hard belly. “Trust me, I'm on three different kinds of birth control, and I've never had a scare. Promise. What just happened there? That was normal; and it feels great.” 

Steve still looked nervous, tense, and Clint sat up a little to pull Steve closer, Steve reluctantly letting Clint move him. If he'd known... He wouldn't have ambushed Steve in heat, would have gone slower, let Steve get his bearings. Too late now, and they'd both gone so fast... 

“I wish I'd-” Clint started to say, staring straight at him. 

“I should have said something too,” Steve said, dropping his head. Clint kept rubbing at Steve's heavy shoulder soothingly, and knew they were going to be stuck here for a good long while still. 

He looked over and flopped out a hand to dig in his night stand, coming up with a container of wet wipes. Not the same as a washcloth, but better than letting them both get sticky. Stickier. His legs were starting to ache from their rather extreme position, but for now he'd concentrate on keeping Steve on an even keel. He took one wipe and began to wash away the streaks of come that had smeared between their stomachs, leaving behind a light lemon scent to mingle with his heat odor. Steve looked up as Clint touched him with the wipe, losing some of his tension at the simple, mundane action of cleaning. He blinked, seeming to come back to himself, and made a quick turn and half-twist, dislodging Clint's legs from their rather extreme perches and easing the ache in his hips, ending up with Clint leaning back against Steve's bent thighs, Steve laid out underneath him. All without even a grunt of effort.

The sight was a very, very attractive one, and the position drove him a little deeper still into Clint, making him have to close his eyes a moment to savor the sensation. 

“Good, so good,” Clint said quickly, before Steve could put another bad spin on anything, and opened his eyes to continue what he has started, cleaning off Steve, then himself, with thorough care. He grinned at Steve as he tossed the last of the wipes in the garbage can, and leaned his elbows back on Steve's knees in a casual posture as possible, considering. Steve was just continuing the stare at him like he was made out of glass and might explode at any moment. Which might have been hilarious, considering what Clint had survived, but there had been that one guy with a transmutation ray a few months back...

“Are you sure-?” Steve asked.

“No, trust me, you feel really, really good,” Clint said. Then something occurred to him, and he tilted his head forward (not the rest of him, because that was going to make him squeeze down hard on Steve again before he'd gotten a chance to explain). “You should be getting as much out of this as I am. Or, almost as much. That's totally normal.”

A little of Steve's confusion and near-panic cleared, and Clint smiled encouragingly. 

“I- There were a couple of ladies in the chorus when I was on tour, but we never really got, um, quite this far. And I thought, now, I... I've waited too long. I didn't want to let anything pass me by. Not again,” Steve said. He seemed to get a little of his confidence back, and rubbed soothingly at the bruise marks on Clint's hips, his huge warm hands feeling perfect. Both of them relaxed slightly, Clint leaning back a little farther to keep from pushing down too far while Steve got his bearings. He could definitely use a little distraction that was _not_ sweaty, heat-slick aerobics.

“I hear you. First time I went into heat...” Clint chuckled at the memory. “Her name was Serena. Oh God, she was the alpha girlfriend of one of the beta lion tamers. She said she'd help me out, but I guess Pablo didn't get the message, because there we are tied, and he starts yelling her name. So we end up hiding in the clown trailer for an hour and I have to swear Bozo Buttons to secrecy with a pact of lifeblood, grease paint, and balloon animals.”

Steve chuckled at that, jostling them together very pleasantly, finally looking something closer to normal. “During the show, Dolores and Agatha wanted to, uh, give me a good send off, but there I am about three months into _not_ being a skinny, asthmatic weed, so it took them just about painting a giant banner and putting it in my dressing room to get the idea that they were serious...”

Clint smiled as they swapped stories, slowly, carefully starting to lean forward again until a particularly hilarious anecdote from Steve that ended with, “...I know what YouTube is, ma'am,” ended with them both laughing enough that it sent Steve a little deeper into Clint, sparking a needy gleam in his eye which he looked about ready to repress.

“Oh no, don't hold back on me,” Clint demanded. He leaned forward enough to press his palms into Steve's abs and clenched hard on the thick knot he'd been enjoying for over a half hour. Steve's eyes rolled up a bit, but he didn't move his hands from their secure anchor on Clint's hips as he pulsed more heat into Clint. “I want this to be good for you too,” Clint said, shifting himself again, only to find Steve pulling them together for a messy kiss.

“It's okay,” Steve said. “Promise. I kind of tend to throw myself into things, ready or not.” He sounded breathless again, but for a far better reason, and kept talking before Clint could come back with anything. “And I usually walk away with a win.” Steve looked nearly _cocky_ , and Clint gave him a little growl of satisfaction. He pulled away from the kiss enough to stare at Clint with real heat in his eyes and pushed his hand between them to gather up some of the copious slick squeezed from Clint's body onto his thighs. The movement pulled the tie between them tight for a second, making Clint hiss, but that changed into a sharp, heartfelt, “ _Shit!_ ” as Steve ran his slick hand over Clint's neglected erection, bringing him to full, urgent attention. 

Steve's hips rolled in time with his strokes, and it was all Clint could do to keep his eyes open and focused, reassuring Steve with every moan, every clench of his hole, every pulse of his cock, that he was doing good, better than good, that Clint couldn't have picked anyone better to help him through his heat. 

“Fuck, don't _stop!_ ” Clint groaned, and felt himself shaking, clenching _hard_ on Steve, spurting all over Steve's hand as Steve swiveled his hips in tiny, perfect circles, making himself feel even bigger. He stayed that way for a few more long, perfect moments before his knot finally went down, and slowly slipped out of Clint with a sigh.

“You're a sex savant,” Clint mumbled into Steve's shoulder, slurring his words a little. “A knotting prodigy. I'm gonna get Tony to make you a medal. That was fucking fantastic.”

Steve actually laughed as he laid Clint down next to him. “That was just a first try...” He trailed off, a hint of both uncertainty and hope in his voice. “If you're still needing some help for the rest of your heat, that is.”

Clint stretched deliciously, getting the rest of the kinks out as his body eased into the warm Jell-O feeling again, before round two started. “If you're game,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Then I'm your alpha,” Steve said, a bit of a smile that once must have graced the face of a too-determined ninety-eight pound weakling with everything to prove.

“You're a hell of a guy, Steve,” Clint said, and smiled right back at him, knowing things were going to work out all right. “I'm glad I had you.”

Steve just shifted closer to him, smelling the slow, rising scent of returning heat, and Clint leaned up to his mouth to welcome him in.


End file.
